Monster
by solista
Summary: There are monsters out there and the Lancers know just what to do.


**Monster**

mon·ster [mónstər]

n (plural mon·sters)

1. Evil person: somebody whose perceived inhumanity or vicious behavior terrifies and disgusts people

2. Offensive term: an offensive term for a person, animal, or plant that is undesirably formed (archaic)

Encarta ® World English Dictionary © & (P) 1998-2005 Microsoft Corporation. All rights reserved.

The Lancer estancia was taking on a festive atmosphere and when Teresa O'Brien, ward to Murdoch Lancer decided on a Harvest Fandango well that was just how it was going to be, _period._

The Lancer heirs, at this moment in time mainly being Scott the elder son and Johnny the younger were banging their collective heads against the side of the adobe hacienda.

"I swear to you Scott if Miss T'resa tells me once more to move those hay bales or straighten a lantern I'm gonna…" Johnny's hand moved towards his gun butt as his hand closed over the well-worn and polished wooden handle the strong grip of his brothers hand closed over his wrist.

"Now now little brother we would not like the fall out if our father even heard a disparaging word about our sister," Scott removed his hand only after Johnny released the gun butt.

Teresa could be a severe task manager; even the great Murdoch Lancer's tune calling fell into second place when Miss T was in full dominance.

Making a hasty retreat from the kitchen, Murdoch rounded the corner of the hacienda and stopped, his two sons seemed to be in deep conversation when Scott put his hand out to stop Johnny from pulling his gun, 'now what, ' the Lancer patriarch thought to himself.

Scott looking up saw his father standing staring at them as eyes locked Murdoch looked like a deer caught in the sights of his rifle, 'we are in for it now,' Scott thought to himself.

Johnny shifted his gaze from his brother's face to that of their father, 'Dios, if looks were bullets he and Scott would both be dead'.

"Scott, Johnny…," Murdoch's deep voice melded with Scott's baritone, "Murdoch," and Johnny's softer, "Murdoch."

All three men started an explanation then just as abruptly stopped. The sons nodded and deferred to their father, "I ah thought I would go retrieve that seed bull from the Conway Ranch," with a quick glance back towards the open door of the kitchen where a female voice scolded at one Jellifer Hoskins as to the use of a paring knife.

Johnny bit his lower lip and Scott stifled a smile on his lips with a hand to his own chin, "Well Sir Johnny and I were on that same thought," with a gentle clap on Johnny's back the younger Lancer coughed, "Ah yeah Murdoch we ah were thinkin' that same thing. Figured ol' Mac already had enough 'company' out at Miz Aggie's."

Scott piped up much too fast, "Yep, ah that's about how we thought… Johnny and myself, we," he gestured with a wave of his hand between his little brother and himself, 'figured The McDonald has had enough females for one month to last a year."

"Yeah," Johnny not to be out done by his big brother, "'Cides Lancer has its own female population just waitin' for ol' Mac to make his appearance…ah…."

Johnny let the rest of his thought die as he took in the countenance of his father and was confused.

Murdoch must be having some kind of fit, shaking shoulders, suppressed coughing, hand to his chin, head bowed, "Murdoch…" Johnny reached out with a shaking hand then withdrew it as his father stood and gave a belly-rolling laugh, "Oh mi hijos we are too much alike for our own good."

Johnny glared at his father then at Scott who had a smile plastered on his face, "Teresa done got both of ya slap dab loony."

Murdoch moved to stand in front of his younger son, placing big hands on the smaller man's shoulders Murdoch gave his son a gentle shake, "I mean to say we will all three go to fetch Mac back home."

At the sound of a bowl, shattering on the floor of the kitchen and a shriek from Teresa all three men looked back to the open door.

Murdoch turned Johnny with his hands and gently shoved the boy in front of him followed by Scott.

"There is no shame in retreat," Scott managed to say as a litany of words filled the air behind the three men.

"True son as well as pick your battles," Murdoch added keeping a hand on Johnny's shoulder.

"Madrid doesn't run from no one or thing," Johnny huffed attempting to pull away from his father's strong but gentle grip.

Scott rounded on his little brother, "That may be true for Madrid, what about Johnny Lancer?"

Johnny contemplated that remark less than a second, "You are right big brother, let's get goin'. Make sure we got coffee ta pack, a night campin' sounds good."

Murdoch slapped his sons back and chuckled, "Cipriano has the supplies gathered up, and we need to hurry while the going is good."

Johnny was a bit shorter than Scott was and much shorter than Murdoch yet the younger Lancer made it first to the barn ahead of his brother and father.

Having saddled and packed his bedroll on his palomino, Barranca, he stood waiting for the older men, "I hope I don't get as old as you two so I can't move fast. Dios, you two are as slow as Jelly on a cold morning."

Scott wagged a gloved finger, "Haste makes waste."

Johnny snorted; his brother had a saying for everything. Looking over the top of his siblings head Johnny saw Teresa O'Brien in full battle armor heading their way, "Yeah well haste is right about now brother, less ya want your day ta be wasted by doin' Miss T's orders."

Not waiting for his father or brother to mount, Johnny turned the golden head of his horse and headed out away from the firestorm about to hit.

As the two other men joined him, one on each side they heard a faint shout behind them growing fainter as the horses took the men of Lancer away.

It was not an all-day task to reach the Conway Ranch, but the Lancer men decided to take their time. Going would not be the problem, returning with the big bull would be.

The McDonald would be slow and cantankerous, he had one speed and if he tired, he would lie down and refuse to move until he was ready.

**LLLLLLL**

Murdoch pushed his sons to start the journey home, he would stay and visit with Aggie Conway and enjoy another cup of coffee and piece of apple pie.

The pace Mac started with he would catch up to his sons in no time, let the boys handle the bull.

As the tune caller, he would take his time and enjoy life, and some quiet, if only for a short time.

Since his sons came home… at times it was as if the two were still in short pants and acted like it. However, it was good all good his time spent with Aggie was also very good.

**Revelation**

Johnny turned in his saddle making the leather creak, "So ya think tha Ol' Man's gonna get more than coffee and an apple pie," the grin said it all.

Scott had to smile that little half smile thing he did and raised one eyebrow, "I hope it is just apple pie and coffee," in a voice that sounded much like their father, "we never had that talk about the birds and the bees."

Johnny shuddered at the thought, "Dios, Scott ya think he would have given us the "_talk" _if we had grown up here on Lancer?"

With a nod and a push of his hat back from his forehead he gazed with conviction at his little brother, "I would venture to say he would."

With a grin and a smirk directed at Johnny, "He most certainly would have given the younger Lancer son a thorough "talking" to."

With a rise then drop of shoulders Johnny grinned back, "I wasn't tha one tha Pinkertons found climbin' down tha side of a girl's balcony in tha middle of tha night, _big brother_."

Pointing on gloved finger at his brother, "Ah but I had had the "talk"."

Johnny shuddered, "Ah Scott ya mean Ol' Man Garrett took his little Scotty sat ya down in front of his comfee big fireplace and soft chair and had the "talk"?"

Scott smiled as he remembered _that _day, "Scotty," his grandfather stood than sat than stood, hands clasp behind his back as he walked in front of the fireplace.

"Scotty you are of an age now," Scott thought back, he was fifteen almost sixteen he knew what the older man was about to lecture him about and kept his council to himself.

"There comes a time in a young man's life when…"

Scott let his grandfather continue as he attentively listened all the while remembering his _first time._

Marguerite was French, the wife of a diplomat visiting Boston… there was a dinner party at the Garrett mansion where a personable innocent young man was persuaded to take the older woman on a tour of Boston while her husband and Harlan Garrett conducted business,

The _tour _did not last long as the seduction and conquest started soon after she flowed into the Garrett coach, the driver told to take his time and just drive the matched team of high stepping horses around Boston.

Within the coach, blinds drawn Scott Garrett Lancer was taught the ways of passion.

With an inner grin, Scott remembered, _all _the ways of passion.

Johnny saw that look on his brothers face reached out and tapped his siblings shoulder, "Care ta tell me 'bout _her_?"

"I wouldn't know where to start with Marguerite, but suffice it to say little brother after my encounter with the beautiful seductress I really didn't need the "talk" from Grandfather."

"Margaret huh, yeah my first time was with a Maggie too." Johnny had his own remembrances… a slow plodding horse, the only light a full moon, the ranchers daughter and novice pistolero.

He did not know a man and a woman could do that on a slow moving horse in the dark.

"Ok I was sixteen an never had no one give me tha "talk" it sure _miedo a la mierda de mi _when she turned her big brown eyes up at me and said, 'will you just ride away if there is a baby?' I can tell ya brother I was sure glad there weren't a kid, but I took ta learnin' a lot 'bout 'protection'."

Scott nodded, "as did I little brother as did I. Still it would have been different if our father had given us a "talk"."

"Yeah, big brother, I can just see his neck getting' all red and his voice crackin' and all jittery," Johnny was on a roll.

Scott joined in, "then he would pat our back and tell us to be safe."

Subdued Johnny looked at Scott, "Still kinda would'a been nice."

Scott agreed, "Yeah would have been."

As the brothers plodded along with the bull, the sun was beginning to dip behind the mountains and the bull, The MacDonald decided he had had enough walking for one day and proceeded to lie down in the high grass.

Johnny, nearly pulled from the saddle as the length of rope tightened and Barranca, the good cowpony he was halted abruptly. "Whoa… what the…" Johnny turned in his saddle and frowned, "Why'd ya do that for ya ornery sidewinder."

Scott chuckled, "Murdoch did say…"

"Yeah, yeah I know. Well if we're gonna camp, need ta get set up 'fore we lose tha light," Johnny interjected.

Scott surveyed the area Mac had decided for his little siesta, not too bad, a little open for his liking but passable.

A copse of trees stood to the right a small pond was to the left and Mac had found a nice large tree to lie under, "If you would gather some fire wood we can have a cup of coffee and pie before Murdoch catches up to us."

Johnny dismounted and secured the rope to the tree eyeing Mac with distaste, "It's a good thing bull you got hands off written on ya, a nice big steak would be good right about now."

Scott stepped effortlessly from his mount and strode over to take Barranca's reins, "I'll get the horses settled and make camp. It was nice of Aggie to give us the whole pie."

Johnny snorted, "She said she loves ta bake an just made extra, right she made extra and shoved it at us as she said, 'You boys enjoy..' as she turned those pretty eyes over ta our Ol' Man."

Glancing over to his brother Scott frowned, "Wonder what it would be like to have Aggie as our mother?"

Johnny may have grinned on the outside but he was confused on the inside, did he want to share the old man it was different with Scott and T'resa.

Would he feel like he was replacing his mother he liked Aggie Conway and she was good for his father, Ol' Murdoch was always in good spirits after his visit with the lady rancher but was Johnny ready to share?

He may have lived hard and was wise to the ways of life, but he was still just nineteen and sometimes he was just a kid… he did not like to share.

Scott made short work of settling the horses as Johnny returned with an armload of kindling and broken tree branches after, depositing his load he rummaged in his saddlebags for the small hand axe and headed back for some larger pieces.

Scott efficiently built the fire ring and started a nice blaze by the time Johnny returned with a few nice sized logs.

The big flour sack Scott had untied from his saddle produced a battered small coffee pot, three cups, and various items to make this a satisfactory camping trip.

Grinning up at his brother Scott held up a small bag that upon peeking inside he found a small amount of sugar, "It seems when Cipriano packs trail provisions he takes care of his sweet tooth."

Johnny spread his bed roll and sat down, turning his body to lay on his side facing Scott, his elbow bracing his upper body he crossed his ankles and grinned back, "yeah for a tough hombre our Segundo has a soft side."

Scott did the honors of measuring the grounds and water and placing the coffee pot near the flames, "you, my brother, may be the only one in the state of California to say that."

"Ah Scott he's…" Johnny's words, cut short by a high-pitched scream and in one fluid movement Johnny was standing now in a crouch, gun drawn.

Scott tossed aside his bed roll as he had been in the middle of un rolling it and matched his brother, both facing the wooded area.

Johnny spoke in a soft voice barely above a whisper, "May be someone after tha bull, you stay here I'll go check it out."

Scott didn't like the idea of Johnny going out there in the semi darkness alone; the bull was a valuable piece of property and could place a dent in the Lancer bottom line, "alright brother, just keep your head down."

With a grin, the pistolero/ rancher nodded and took off at a run towards the tree line.

Scott crouched near the bull after he had replaced his pistol into the holster at his hip and retrieved the carbine that had been leaning against his up turned saddle, and he waited.

The approaching dark had all the nocturnal insects and mammals begin their foray, at the sound of the blood-curdling scream the night turned deathly silent.

Barranca and Charley stood quiet, ears cocked forward facing the trees Scott's own eyes and ears were focused there as well, " come on Johnny, don't do this to me," Scott's low breathy sigh escaped tightly drawn lips.

Scott was getting nervous, his hands began to sweat as he gripped the rifle, and the cooling air of twilight dried the moisture from his skin leaving behind goose bumps.

"This is enough," he softly said to no one as he stood, Barranca nickered a greeting as Scott saw pale figures walking towards the campfire. Rifle to his shoulder, finger on the trigger he waited, again.

From the twilight came his brother's voice, "Comin' in Scott, hold your fire." A heavy sigh burst from his lungs as Scott lowered the rifle and waited, 'just what did, Johnny find to rescue this time'.

To say he was dumb struck would be putting it mildly the elder Lancer son gaped as Johnny strode into the camp holding in his arms a girl and behind him four other women.

As they drew, closer to the campfire Scott saw there were two young women and three girls the youngest appeared to be six or seven.

Johnny knelt with the child and sat her on his bedroll, having difficulty disengaging her arms from around his neck one of the older girls stepped forward and aided their savior, " Let tha man go Theo," as she sat down to hold the younger girl to her side she turned big eyes up, "I got 'er mister, thanks."

Johnny stood and took off his jacket wrapping it around one of the other girls. Scott took time to look at the bedraggled females, one was in just her chemise and petticoats the others had varying degrees of dress or undress… what had they stumbled into or who had stumbled into them.

Scott removed his jacket and handed it to one of the older women as he moved his bedroll closer to that of his brother's.

Picking up the canteen, he handed it off to a blond woman, "Scott Lancer, my brother Johnny sorry all we have is water and a little coffee as well as a pie."

A brown haired girl looked up, "pie ya got pie."

Scott knelt and picked up the apple pie from Aggie Conway and handed it to her. With a friendly smile, he answered the child, "I suppose my brother and I can share as long as you do so as well."

It was not long before the pie plate emptied, and fingers and faces coved in sticky remains. Using a piece of ragged petticoat saturated with water from the canteen the older women cleaned up the younger girls.

Scott and Johnny walked a little way from the women, "Johnny," Scott started.

His brother held up a hand, "Don't know, when I got to them someone ran off into the trees I couldn't follow. The bastardo had a knife on tha little one when he saw me he took off."

Scott watched his brother as the younger man ran a hand through his dark hair then across his face, "Well let's go find out some answers the older women should be settled enough."

Hands now on his hips Johnny blew out a breath and nodded, "Yeah let's get 'em sorted out."

Scott turned with his brother, the older women holding the younger girls close, what was their story.

**Evil**

Scott crouched down on a level with the women as Johnny stood keeping watch for the knife welding man's return alone, or with friends, he listened intently as his brother talked.

"Ma'am, my name is Scott Lancer, this," indicating Johnny with a wave of one hand, "is my brother Johnny. I know you all must have had a horrendous situation," he reached out to touch the child in the older woman's lap, "we only want to try and help."

It was a minute before the woman lifted her head from administering to the child she held on her lap, her face illuminated by the setting sun.

Scott saw the haunted look from eyes that had seen and endured too much horror, he had seen it during his incarceration at Libby Prison. Knowing what it felt like he remained silent allowing the woman to gain self-control.

Her voice was soft, dry and Scott had to lean in to hear her clearly, "My name is Emily Blount, I was taken about six months ago," she licked dry lips.

"My husband Matthew was killed and I don't know what happened to my baby… my James is two." Tears fell from her eyes to make rivulets through the dirt and grime on her handsome face, "Mr. Lancer, what do we do now? They will come for us."

Placing a gentle gloved hand on the woman's shaking shoulder he gave her a smile, "No one will hurt you again," glancing up to his brother, Scott sighed and stood.

With a quick glance at his brother Scott motioned to Johnny to join him.

Hands on hips Scott worried his bottom lip, "you or me have to ride to Aggie's or Lancer. We need a wagon and some supplies, the doctor and the sheriff as well." Folding his arms across his chest Scott sighed out, "what happened to these people, some are just children.'

Johnny had kept his eyes on the surrounding darkness as he listened to Scott. One of them leaving could prove a disaster should the assailant come back with help.

Left hand on his hip and right hovering over his gun Johnny nodded, "you are right Scott," he said softly.

"But I think you should take the two younger kids on your horse 'an two other women on Barranca," he could make out the indecisiveness in his brothers face.

Brother, Johnny sighed inside, to think he finally had a brother and a family that cared for him.

Before Scott could flat out refuse, "listen Scott, I can take care of myself 'an one woman." In a more serious tone, "'cides tha kids need help and now, brother."

Scott knew he had been voted down before he could state his case. Looking over at the huddle mass of damaged females he threw his hands up, "Alright brother you win, but I don't like it."

Scott stared at his brother his own thoughts weighing the dangers of the one left behind with just a bull, one gun and a defenseless woman, "you promise me you will take precautions. Lord knows how I could explain if Murdoch Lancer's baby boy was damaged in some way or form."

With his saucy grin and gentle tap of a hand to Scott's stomach, "well big brother with your Har-vard education you are sure ta figure somethin' out."

Turning back to the women Scott's logical mind began the process of determining who would ride and who would stay.

**Flight and Fight**

It was soon decided that the two younger children would ride with Scott on his horse Clancy, one in front one behind. The older two women would ride Barranca, the brothers were told in no uncertain words they could sit a horse just fine.

Johnny held the head of the big palomino as the women mounted, "you be good fella, these here women folk need your help," with a tender scratch under the hairy chin Barranca nodded his head.

"Good boy, do me proud Barranca," looking up at the woman whose name he was told was Ernestine, 'Ernie for short', "you shouldn't have any problems out of Barranca, Ernie. He understands the seriousness of this matter."

The younger woman whose age was undecided with all the grim on her face smiled, it was a brilliant smile that broke through the horror, "Might ablige there Johnny, I am sure me an' Barranca will get along just fine," bending over the neck of the horse she patted the animals shoulder, "reminds me of my Pa's mount, a mite testy but good through an' through."

Johnny gave her one of his gentle smiles, "Ok then," catching Scott's eye he nodded, " time ta get movin' brother."

Scott nodded, "Murdoch should be along in a little while,"

Johnny snickered, "Yeah I'm sure," was the sarcastic reply.

Scott wagged a finger towards his brother, "Be good little brother. You know Murdoch would not dare to refrain from attending Miss T's party tonight."

Johnny placed his hands inside his belt, "You got that right, brother. I'll keep tha coffee hot an' tha' fire high."

"Just keep your eyes open and your gun ready," Scott said with concern. Johnny smiled his smile, tilted his head and smirked, "don't I always brother?"

Scott reached around the small child sitting in front of him to finger the reins turning Charlie towards Lancer. His little entourage should reach the estancia before full dark Scott's mind was already running through what had to be done.

Contact Val Crawford the sheriff in Green River, Samuel Jenkins the county doctor then a couple of ranch hands to tend the bull as he collected his little brother.

Smiling to himself, Johnny Madrid the famed gunfighter of the border was his little brother. Grandfather nearly had a fit if the response to his letter describing his meeting of the unknown 'brother' was any indication.

He could hear the man who raised him, "dangerous, you return to Boston where you belong. How could that barbarian of a father expose you to such filth…?"

A frown flitted across Scott's lips, his response to the derogatory letter was none too subtle, "… Johnny is my brother, good or bad, right or wrong. He is no danger to me."

"If you wish me to continue a correspondence, you will refrain from the name calling when you speak about my brother and father," he may have been too harsh on the older man, the man who had given him everything, but 'hell's bell's' this was now his family.

Clicking to Charley and Barranca Scott wanted to move his little group faster, get these women settled at Lancer, hand this situation over to the law and physician and retrieve his little brother with all his fingers and toes and no extra holes in his compact body.

Johnny watched the retreating figure of Scott and the women until they were out of sight.

Turning back to the one remaining woman the rancher sighed, glancing once more to the tree line his eyes moved over to the Lancer seed bull, "well you were a lot of help."

"Excuse me," Emily looked up from wrapping a blanket around her shoulders.

"Ah," Johnny turned blue eyes to the battered woman, "sorry just talkin' to tha bull." Making his way over to stand in front of the woman he glanced once more to the tree line, then lowered himself to his knees, "So Miss Emily what's this all about, who was tha man with tha knife an' where'd ya all come from?"

Emily shivered and Johnny stood turning to the campfire and the coffee pot, "still a bit left 'probly strong enough ta stand a spoon in, but it's hot."

The woman looked up at the young man as he held the coffee pot and wiggled it at her, "sure Johnny thank you."

She watched as he picked up a cup and pored a little in the tin cup sloshed the hot coffee then tossed it out and refilling the cup.

His movements were slow but precise as he replaced the coffee pot and moved back to her.

His walk smooth and sure. She noticed the low hung gun and shivered, "my husband, Matt is a, was, a

Deputy over in Hinton Springs," nodding towards the gun on Johnny's thigh as she accepted the cup from his hands, "you a gunfighter?"

Johnny hunkered down beside the woman, senses still on alert, "was, I'm a rancher now. My father, brother an' me we own a ranch a few hours ride to tha south, Lancer."

Emily sipped from the battered tin cup and made a face as the bitter drink went down, "I hope you haven't lost your edge Johnny you will need it when they come."

"Seemed ta me he was glad ta turn tail an' run when confronted by a man." He frowned at his thoughts, 'who are 'they' an' what did they want.'

Emily pulled her knees up and clutched the cup with one hand as she pulled the blanket closer, "they rode into town, four horses pulling a covered wagon, and no one could see in, it was lashed down tight. At first it seemed all they wanted were supplies then someone screamed behind all that tight canvas. Sheriff Reynolds was off delivering a criminal up to the county seat, Matt was in charge. He…," Emily faltered, sat the cup down and clutched the blanket with both hands.

"Matt tried to investigate, some of the other town people with him… God they shot him down in cold blood. I saw it all, holding my baby I ran to him. One of them grabbed me another drew back the canvas flap and looked inside. A woman had given birth but there was something terribly wrong, there was too much blood and the baby didn't cry."

Johnny was at a loss but knew it was better to get it out than hold it in, "I know it hurts Miss Emily, just tell it slow."

Her head bowed, then nodded up and down, her tear stained face turned up at the young man before her.

"I don't think I can ever take it out of my mind, they were evil, monsters… they left the woman and dead infant in the street. My husband's blood and hers mingling in the dirt. They grabbed my baby from my arms and thrust him up to another woman in the wagon. I screamed some men tried to help, but they weren't armed. Mr. Jorgenson the store owner was knifed, Mr. Anderson was hit in the side of his head with the butt of a rifle. I, I went after my baby, he was all I had of Matt." She began to rock slowly, "I wish they had killed me along with my husband I don't even know if my baby is alive, and if he is where."

Her haunted eyes looked into cool deep blue eyes and found solace, "You and your brother seem like decent young men. I hope we didn't bring this horror down on you and yours."

Johnny was angry, sickened and he tried his best Madrid mask to hide his feelings from this woman who had endured so much, "Now Miss Emily you let us be the judge of that. Ain't no one come up against Lancers and ever gained tha upper hand. My father, Murdoch Lancer is one stubborn mountain of a man."

Emily smiled, "It would seem the acorn didn't fall far from the tree."

Johnny chuckled, "well that may well be. See as I got somethin' from my father and mother, both of 'em were stubborn an' I grew up hard and fast on tha border. I seen a lot of monsters an' evil so you just relax."

"Johnny they won't fight fair, they don't have a code of honor and they have no souls," Emily put a hand out to the young gunfighter, "If they come for me, just let me go. I don't have anything left, getting those girls away took all I had. I just need it to end and I don't want the death of you or your family adding to my shame. Johnny just let me go,"

**FEAR**

Murdoch smiled as he spotted the glow from the campfire, 'looks like the McDonald wore himself out.'

As he drew closer he made sure and announced his arrival. It would not do for his younger son to be startled, the boy was just too fast with that leg iron, "Hello the camp, it's your father and you had best saved me some coffee and pie."

He frowned when there was no sassy rejoinder from his younger son nor a civilized retort from his elder son.

Coming into the ring of fire light he could see the reason, his dark haired boy was trussed up like a calf at branding time, he wasn't moving.

Looking around at the three men ringing his son he did the only thing he could think of, "What the hell is going on here?"

Johnny regained consciousness as the roar of a great bear broke through the mist and film clouding his mind, "Murdoch?"

Murdoch was now standing beside his horse, two men confronting him, but it was the third man with a rifle barrel pressed against his son's head who held his attention.

"I asked you what you wanted," Murdoch was scared for his boy for he knew this son would never show any emotion to these men.

One of the men stepped closer to Murdoch, a grin splitting the grime and dirt on his face, "Well seems like you likes ta give tha orders an' 'spect men ta jump. Well Mr. Big Bug Rancher, that boots on tha other foot so's ta speak."

Murdoch turned his eyes to this 'man' and he loosely used the word to describe this animal, "I don't care what you think Mister, why is my son bound hand and foot?"

"Wellll," the scraggly tooth man grinned and winked, "it's like this Mister Big and Mighty Murdoch Lancer, and we know you got a big ranch so you must got some money. Now those females your boy got away with they was gonna bring us some money down Mexico. Yer boy, I figure is worth 'bout that."

Murdoch's blue eyes glared at the filth before him, "Money this is about money. My boy is laying in the dirt trussed up like a calf, I can clearly see blood where you hit him and you demand money?"

The man standing over Johnny let loose with a kick to the young man's side, though Johnny was playing possum he gasp a moan as the booted foot met with unresisting flesh.

Murdoch moved forward to defend his son, but a gun was pushed into his firm stomach, "Oh no Mr. Lancer you jest stay put an listen real good. Now Jeb there won't do no harm to yer kid," with a smirk, "well no more harm to 'im if you listen up. Five thousand dollars, tomorrow noon right here. You don't show or you try sumpin' stupid or ya get any law… yer boy is dead and buried and you won't ever find his carcass."

Murdoch glanced away from the evil face to that of his younger son. Johnny still hadn't moved or made a sound, where was Madrid when he was needed? With a last critical look at his boy Murdoch addressed the filth in front of him.

"You harm another hair on his head not only will you **not** get a dime you **will wish** you and your friends had never been born."

Murdoch's cold stone countenance had the man step back and lower his gun, this was a man not to trifle with, but he and his brothers had fanagled their way out of many a lawman's grasp, "You jest get tha money by noon tomorrow, or you won't have no one ta blame but yerself."

Turning to go Murdoch glanced at the woman sitting by the campfire, "Ma'am are you alright?"

Her haunted eyes looked up as she rocked back and forth, "It will never be right again Mr. Lancer."

Nodding towards his son, "Johnny's a good man," Emily sighed, "give them what they want. Help yourself and forget all this ever happened."

Murdoch tightened his lips and ignored the evil around him, "I don't know your name Miss."

She gave Murdoch a slight smile, "I am nobody Mr. Lancer."

Pushed from behind Murdoch stumbled forward, "Git goin' Mr. Rancher, ya got a lot ta do an no time ta do it," the man released a cackle at his own words. With a final rough shove, "now git."

Murdoch could not risk another glance at Johnny, he would do something stupid if he didn't leave now.

He fisted his hands as he walked to his horse, his strong hands all they wanted to do was wrap around the neck of this poor excuse for a human being and slowly squeeze the life from those cold soulless eyes.

How could he have ever thought Johnny had been soulless? He had been so very wrong about a lot of things when it came to both of his sons.

This was a wake-up call and Murdoch Lancer was not a man to disregard the alarm.

Mounting up he glared down at the man, "One hair sir…" reining the horse around his eyes fell on his boy and was relieved to see blue eyes staring back.

A nod was all the concerned father could muster, his lips and mouth were dry, and any attempt at speech would only come out a croak.

He would be back, he would not be alone and he would get his boy back…. Lancer took care of their own.

**The Waiting**

Johnny winced at the pain in his side and the rope grinding into his wrists. There had to have been a passel of blacksmiths pounding iron in his head, Dios he hurt.

Keeping the fact he was awake Johnny took a quick look around with just his eyes. He had a limited view but it was enough to see Emily was not in a good place.

She had a bruise on her cheek and she clutched Johnny's bolero jacket in front of her now naked breast with a tight hold.

Animals, no monsters that's what she called them, animals were higher on the chain than these sorry excuses.

Ransom, he had to hold back a chuckle, tha Old Man could raise that much cash, but not over-night, no his Ol' Man would make hash out of these monsters.

It was the kick to his already sore ribs that had Johnny release 'Madrid' as fluent and colorful expletives in Spanish flowed from his mouth.

Another boot to the ribs and Johnny felt at least one rib crack he glared up at the man, man Johnny spat the taste of the word from his mouth onto the ground.

"Now Clint," the gravelly voice of the one who called the tune stopped another kick to the spot on Johnny's ribs, "his old man may not pay us all our money if'n tha boy is damaged too much. Jest leave 'im."

Clint wasn't happy, his fun had been cut too short. He glared down at the dark headed 'boy' and spat a wad of tobacco from his mouth to land not far from Johnny's head, "guess so," glancing at the half naked woman sitting by the fire, "well there's always other kinda entertainment."

Johnny tried to kick out at the man as he moved past, he knew what 'entertainment' the dirty, foul man had in mind. That action only earned him a rifle butt to his already bleeding head, he was shoved into the darkness as he heard a plaintive scream from the young woman.

Johnny would have upchucked but all voluntary and involuntary movements were cut off as his world turned off like a candle blown out in a violent storm.

**TIME**

Someone was humming, to his muddled mind it reminded him of his mother. Without moving his head he tried to mentally shake the cobwebs from his mind. The pain from the second hit to his head was nothing compared to the first hit.

Dios what a royal f…. he was startled when a soft hand caressed his cheek.

"Teresa?" he asked without thinking, thinking coherently was out of the question at this point in time.

It came to him after a short time, "Emily," he croaked from between dry lips. He was answered with a calming caress and a 'hush now', Emily didn't sound good he could hear it in the two small words she whispered in his ear.

The calming hand moved to his hair as it smoothed the too long hair back from his eyes, "They're asleep."

Johnny opened his eyes, it was dark except for the faint glow from the dying campfire.

Emily's face was turned down towards him as she made it her job to tame his unruly hair, "you need a haircut. I'll get your daddy to take you into old Bert's and lower your ears."

"Emily," Johnny knew the young woman was beyond this world and now resided in her own world, where she was his mother and he her little boy.

"Now you lay still, or the monsters will hear you," she cradled his head on her lap and rocked slowly, gently back and forth, humming to her child a smile on her battered face from the inhuman handling from the monsters masquerading as men.

Johnny closed his eyes and sent a silent plea to heaven and his father, 'Dios protect this woman from further harm and get me the hell outta here.'

**Pay Up or Pay the Piper**

When Johnny woke again it was to a wet cloth running across his face, "there you are." Putting the now damp cloth aside Emily lifted Johnny's head, "Here take a little sip of water," as she tilted the cup he looked into her eyes, he never noticed they were a shade of lavender. He was hot, fever hot, 'not now' he murmured to himself.

As quick as the words fell from his lips a soft hand cupped his chin, "Johnny I… I don't know how long I can hold onto this reality… I know I'm slipping away. I will do what I can to help you."

She moistened her own dry lips with a swipe of her tongue, "do one thing for me… please find my son, he has grandparents back east."

Feeling her slip something into the small pocket of his calzoneras he tried to turn his head to her, "Emily we will both get out of this and you will find your son an' you both can go home."

She folded her hands onto her lap with a lowering of eyes and a shake of her head, "no…I can't go back. Too much has happened…. I can never feel clean again."

Johnny watched as a tear fell onto her hands and he struggled against the ropes burning into his wrists, "No Emily, this ain't your fault you got a son who needs you. Don't abandon him because of trash like this."

Licking his lips he tried to shift a colorful word slipped from his mouth and was admonished by one of them, "Boy yer daddy ever wash yer mouth out with a bar of soap. Don'tcha know ya never talk like that in front of a woman."

With a swipe of his hand he motioned to Emily, "you go make some breakfast. There's fixin's in tha wagon."

As Emily stood she clutched Johnny's bolero tight across her chest. Micah grabbed at the jacket and ripped it open revealing a bruised breast, "an' git yerself cleaned up. I like my women clean from tha leavin's of tha last man…. even if it were my brother."

He laughed as Emily stood there head bowed, flesh revealed, "go on now git… we got lots ta do 'fore daddy gets back."

Bending down to squat beside Johnny his grimy hand grabbed his captives head of hair and twisted, "if all goes well boy we'll get what's owed us an then we'll kill you an' yer old man fast."

Standing, Micah slapped his hands together, "now ain't that better than getting' yer guts ripped out and dying real slow."

A shout from his tormentor had Johnny looking across the camp, the one called Clint had Emily pushed up against the side of the wagon hands groping under the tattered petticoats.

"Let 'er go Clint or by God I'll take a whip to ya. Let 'er git some vittles cooking. And after I'm done with 'er she's yours."

Johnny closed his eyes and felt sick to his stomach. Bile was making its way up his throat, 'Dios Murdoch hurry.' Johnny knew is father had no intentions of paying these monsters anything except hot lead.

Scott would be with Murdoch and probly half the Lancer hands. He smiled, he only hoped he would stay alive long enough to see these monsters get what they deserved.

He whispered to himself, 'I'll find your son Emily. I won't give up til he's back in your arms. Hurry Murdoch.'

The fever was building and his head was pounding as he drifted in and out of reality. He thought of his brother, Scott. What would it have been like to grow up together at Lancer?

With the vision of him on his palomino and Scott on his chestnut riding under the arch of Lancer, Johnny lost his hold and darkness comforted him.

**Monsters Can Die**

He felt the sting of the ropes on his raw wrists as he was pulled into the here and now. Someone was sawing away at the ropes which bound him.

Moving his legs he was surprised to find them un- fettered. "Murdoch," he croaked out from a throat too dry.

He was hot, he knew the fever had set in but he was delirious and coherent thoughts escaped his muddled mind.

A hissed, "get up," was whispered in his ear. As the ropes released at his wrist he turned over onto his back, "Emily?"

Her face was battered, and a trickle of bright red blood meandered down her chin from the split lip, "can you stand Johnny…. We need to move now."

Sitting up Johnny's world collided with reality, 'Dios,' he sighed as a wave of nausea washed over him. Emily was pulling his arm, "they won't be gone long, get up!"

Looking around Johnny was surprised his captors were not in sight…. that wasn't right, one appeared to be sleeping. Why would he be sleeping at mid- morning.

In the growing light of day he noticed the glistening of blood around the man's neck, pooling under his body and running rivulets away from Clint now devoid of life, sightless eyes staring in accusation at the young woman, "Emily what happened?"

"Not now Johnny, we have to move, Jeb and Micah will be back soon, here...," she shoved a gun into Johnny's numb hands, instinct had him grasp the handle, but he felt nothing, 'whoa,' he thought to himself, 'this ain't good.'

Pushing the gun back to Emily, "here you'd best keep it, I can't even feel my hands. Probly make a fool of myself."

Emily held the gun in her hand and hefted the cold iron, "Matt would never let me touch his gun, when the baby came along he would put it high up in a cupboard," a smile turned her lips up, "he said to keep danger away from the baby. He couldn't even crawl yet."

Johnny wanted to comfort the distressed and hurting woman, but he knew they had to hide, had to watch for Murdoch, he had to protect his father from the monsters. With one brother dead, the other two would not give them an easy death.

"Emily, my legs are holding you back, get to one of the horses and head east, you'll find Lancer and safety," as the words left his mouth he felt a strong hand on his forearm. The circulation had not all returned and the grasp was painful, "I will stay and I will see these men dead. You are a gunfighter, if I have to I'll hire you and if you won't," her face took on a determined look, "I'll do it myself, better dead than living like this."

Johnny looked down at her and gave a cold smile, "you know killin' a man takes somethin' away from you, somethin' you can ever get back," with a shrug Johnny grasp the gun butt, "never let a woman do my fightin' for me before, not gonna happen now."

As they made their way towards the tree line, Emily supporting the young man as best she could as Johnny stumbled more than walked, "guess you an' me done seen all kinds a' things, things that most lawabidin' folks can't even imagine in their worst nightmares. Come on Miss Emily let's see what we can do ta kill some monsters."

**The Devil Calls Your Name**

Murdoch Lancer rode with a set to his shoulders as his chiseled face showed no emotion but that of determination.

Twenty plus years ago he wore the same expression, sat the same in his saddle and had showed no one his fear, hope and need as once more he set out to get his boy back.

He needed his younger son more than his elder son Scott or maybe it was because Johnny needed him more.

He loved both boys the very same, was bursting at the seams when they both came home, but it was that very first day he knew his little boy needed him as well as an older brother and a home.

It would seem the ex-gunfighter, cynical by instinct and older than his years could find himself in the most unusual situations through no fault of his own.

He just hoped the boy would not do anything to jeopardize his rescue. The careful plans laid out by the people who loved and cared about him were about to go down and all Johnny had to do was stay out of it and keep his head down.

Murdoch sighed, 'as if that was going to happen.'

Earlier that morning Scott Lancer and Val Crawford, the sheriff of Green River and closest friend to Johnny, had ridden out to put into place the rescue of the younger man and Emily Blount.

When Murdoch had ridden in last night with the news of Johnny's kidnapping and the monsters who held the younger Lancer, Scott was prepared to ride back out there and pull his little brother out of danger.

It was his father's calm voice which had Scott snap into military mode and come at his brother's rescue as a strategic maneuver.

Val, the grumpy, disheveled sheriff and friend knew just riding hell bent for leather would only get Johnny killed.

So it was, the sheriff the lieutenant and the rancher came up with a plan that a friend, a brother nor a father could clearly plan, this was too important to let feelings and hot heads prevail.

It was only the fact that with all the carefully laid plans of three intelligent, cool minds that that of a hot head, seat of his pants, instinctual young man would throw a wrench into the whole fandango.

The one thing the young ex-gunfighter liked besides tequila was a good dance, and he was master of this kind of dance.

Murdoch rode towards camp and his son and Val and Scott having just arrived at their destination the logical, strategically planning was put into play.

Cipriano, the Lancer Segundo and a handful of ranch hands spread out to entrap anyone trying to leave the area. The plan was falling into place, confidence was high and success within sight.

Johnny Madrid Lancer and Miss Emily Blount had concluded that to save the life of Murdoch Lancer they had to rescue themselves.

Emily had begun the dance when Clint was raping her and left the knife too close.

She ended his tormented, deranged life as she drew the blade across his neck, but drew no satisfaction as his blood gushed from his severed artery and was soaked up by the earth.

LLLLLL

Johnny looked across to the woman as she lay on her belly beside him, hidden in the heavy undergrowth of grasses and weeds. A lizard crawled across her arm, she never so much as brushed it off or like some women he had known screamed their lungs out.

He wanted to tell her she was strong, she would survive this, and she would find her son.

But how could he tell someone so intent on dying that it was better to live with the pain, the horror to see that life had its advantages as well.

The smile of a child being held in the security of his mother's arms, the calm only a mother could elicit from a scared and frightened child.

Nope, he would not let this young mother and widow throw her life and the sacrifice of her dead husband away.

The grass being trampled was close, too close his hands still too numb to feel his gun he shoved it into Emily's hands and in a soft whisper, "I'll point, you pull the trigger."

His thoughts turned to his own family, he hoped his brother and father could live with his own sacrifice today. If nothing else the gunshots would alert Murdoch that he no longer needed to 'buy' his errant son back from the arms of the devil.

As he wiped his face on his shirt sleeve he grinned to himself 'hell the devil done had his brand on Madrid from the day he picked up a gun.'

LLLLL

Murdoch heard the explosion from the tree line as he rode into the camp, the body he thought was his son was that of one of 'them'.

He wanted to shout for his son at the top of his lungs, but knew he could endanger the boy if he had gotten away from these 'monsters'.

"Dear God not again, I will not lose him again,' it was a silent plea to the Man Above. He hoped Val and Scott had a better advantage point.

His horse jerked and side stepped as the explosion ripped through the quiet morning, "John!"

He turned his horse towards the tree line, come hell or high water he was getting his boy back alive and in one piece or by God die trying.

More gun shots resounded in the disturbed air around the beautiful glen, shouts of men, and thuds of horse's hooves adding to the broken silence.

Murdoch dismounted much too fast and felt the twinge in his back, 'not now' he cursed under his breath.

A woman's scream and Murdoch forgot all pain and centered his whole being on finding his son.

LLLLLLLL

Johnny knew he was dead when the bullet tore into Jed's arm and not his chest.

He and Emily kept the brothers at bay for a few more minutes, shots going wild but effective at keeping the monsters heads down.

Johnny heard the hoof beats, 'Murdoch' he whispered, no, no one guns his old man. Pushing himself up with Emily beside him the young ex-pistolero, son and brother took his stand doing what he knew how to do, protecting those he loved.

LLLLL

Scott Lancer and Val Crawford looked at each other the name neither one spoke but both said silently between them at the first gun shot, 'Johnny'.

Heels kicking into the sides of their mounts the two men did not spare the horses as they made a desperate dash down the hillside towards the shouts and screams and the sounds of a gun battle.

Scott was never so scared in his life, the war never held this much anguish or fear in his heart. His father and brother were down there and he could only pray his sometimes irrational younger brother had things under control, but felt things were far from alright.

Father, brother and friends charged into the tree line in time to see the younger Lancer fall to his knees, gun dropping beside him and the young woman holding him the best she could.

Two men lay on the ground not moving, the smell of death, and gunfire saturated the air. Scott jumped from his horse before it came to a stop at a run his own legs skidded and dropped to his knees beside his younger brother, "Johnny, boy what have you done now?"

The ex-gunfighter had no shame as he grinned, "Hey brother…. Just takin' out some trash."

Looking up he saw his amigo, "hey Val, what you doin' out here, sure could use some of that swill you call coffee."

"I'll get right on it an' brewin' some up," Val's voice cracked.

His eyes losing focus he was surprised to see Cipriano, the Lancer Segundo and a handful of Lancer hands, "Whoa, am I late for work?"

Then a large man came to kneel beside him, "Oh Dios, I'm in trouble now. I over sleep again Ol' Man? Lo siento, just let me get…."

Johnny tried to stand but collapsed into his father's arms, his blue eyes locked onto those of his father, "you ok Murdoch? I… they was gonna gun ya when they got tha money… ain't no one gunnin' my Ol' Man."

With one more look around him, "Emily?"

A soft voice beside him, "Right here Johnny."

Murdoch held his boy close as Johnny passed out, nearly cradling him on his lap, running a hand over the top of the head of his youngest son, "I'm fine son, just fine."

**LLLLLL**

Teresa jabbed her finger with the needle as a gasp from the young man lying in the bed beside her startled the quiet of the room, "Johnny," dropping the shirt, thread and needle to the floor, "hang on."

Teresa ran from the room in a swish of skirts and petticoats, she poked her head around the door jamb, "Scott, Murdoch…" it was a shout but one tinged in joy.

Turning and rushing back to her 'brother's' side she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, "It's ok Johnny, you're home."

As reality pushed away the confusion in his muddied mind Johnny could feel the gentle touch of his 'sister' and the sounds of pounding, booted feet on the stairs and hallway.

He was home, he could smell it and feel it but he hurt, it seemed everywhere, on his body.

With a groan he knew he had also been shot, again. Dios you would have thought by now he knew how to duck… one way or the other.

He croaked out, "Murdoch," as his fever bright eyes looked for the man he had grown to respect.

A strong, calloused hand brushed the hair from his eyes, "right here son, drink?"

Johnny smiled as memories swept through his mind, "you always greet someone with that line Ol' Man?"

Murdoch lifted his younger sons head and accepted the glass of water from Scott, "as long as you look like you need a drink, I suppose son."

Nodding after the water had done its job Johnny lay back on the soft pillow, "gracias Papi. Scott?"

"Here brother. About time you came around," Johnny felt his brother as he moved to the other side of the bed and tapped his arm, "I was afraid I would be doing all the work by myself."

"Long as I'm breathin' I got your back, mi hermano," shifting brought another groan from his dry throat, "Dios, Emily, how's Emily. She… she said she didn't wanna live, she ok?"

Teresa pushed between Scott and the bed to take Johnny's hand in her small ones, "she's down the hall with one of the other women. Doctor Jenkins said she would heal. She asked about you."

"Yeah? Well you tell Miz Emily I'll be in ta see her soon," Johnny squeezed her hand, "an' T'resa tell her I will do what I promised, long as she promises ta' hold on."

Scott and Murdoch looked across the bed to each other, just what had gone on before the rescue.

"Alright son, time to rest, you lost a lot of blood and this fever is taken a hold of you," Murdoch brushed a hand over his sons' brow, "you need anything for the pain?"

"Tequila," Johnny knew it wouldn't happen but it never hurt to try.

"No son not right now, but Maria brewed up a fresh pot of willow bark tea. Now you will have to thank her she went against Sam's orders and put a spoonful of honey in it."

Scott chuckled, "she said it was special for her Nino, how you would never take medicine without a spoonful of honey."

A soft footfall paused at the door, "Patron, I have the tea and the sheriff Crawford is below," Maria, the Lancer housekeeper and onetime nursemaid to Johnny, beamed a smile in his direction, "ah, Juanito you are again with us. Good I will get you chicken broth, and you chico will drink this down, pronto."

Johnny gave the older woman a smile, "Si madracita, but I don't think I can stay awake long enough ta' eat."

"Then you drink this and I will return later," Maria stood beside the bed where his father had been, "now Juanito I have prepared this especial for you."

Scott lifted his brother so he could sip the tea, "gracias," after the first sip he turned blue eyes to his 'sister', "why don't you make this brew especial like Maria?"

Teresa put hands to her hips and stared down at her 'brother', "because I don't sugar coat medicine, it reminds you to be more careful and not get hurt in the first place."

"Guess she told you little brother," Scott quipped as he lowered Johnny to the pillows, "now it would seem like Maria's special tea and your injuries are taking their toll."

Eyes blinking, head turning to the side and a wide yawn was Johnny's answer. Scott tucked the blanket around Johnny's shoulders, "Ok brother, sleep… I'll be right here."

Johnny gave a small nod, "thanks brother."

Teresa leaned over and gave Johnny a peck on his forehead, "sleep well, Johnny."

Maria held the nearly empty cup in both hands, closed her eyes and sent a silent prayer above.

"Come chica we will make a good lunch for the patron and the sheriff. You will see if the ladies want for anything, I have put the younger girls to work cleaning vegetables…"

Scott listened to Maria, her calming voice easing the fear from Teresa. The girl had been a wreck when he had brought the women and girls back and then when Murdoch returned with the news about Johnny being taken hostage.

It seemed Maria had everything under control, knowing the girls needed a distraction and the older women the solace of each other.

Pulling a chair up closer to the bed Scott sat and studied his younger brother, "glad you're back brother," he sighed to the sleeping young man.

**LLLLLL**

Time heals all wounds, or so the saying goes… which is true to the physical injuries. What of the horror and ugliness the mind can-not cope with or understand.

You can die inside and still be walking around, you say 'good morning' out of habit.

In actuality you find yourself in a world your tormented mind feels more comfortable in. The walls built high and strong to keep the joy and happiness others want to share with you from penetrating the darkness you feel your soul now resides.

You feel nothing but ugliness and despair, no light in the darkness, Emily Blount was such a phantom. Waking with the sun, going to bed with the moon, existing but not living.

Johnny Madrid was known to be cold and calculating, selfish, stubborn and cynical.

Johnny Lancer was the softer, gentler and compassionate side of the ex-gunfighter, he had his own demons to slay, but when someone was in need of being helped, he was never one to stand around and debate.

Doctor Sam Jenkins released Johnny from his incarceration in the nicely appointed room and the soft clean bedding with rules and regulations as to his release.

'No heavy lifting, no riding, rest when he was tired and drink plenty of fluids, to replace the blood loss,' the doctor was as specific as he could be.

Sam Jenkins knowing this particular patient would no more heed the restrictions than the barn cats around Lancer, had hedged his bets and had kept the boy in bed longer than need be.

As the doctor, the father and the brother watched the cloud of dust kicked up by the feisty palomino, carrying the younger Lancer away they could only sigh.

Johnny would always be Johnny, and if he had given his word or promise… it would happen.

Scott was prepared, he smiled as Jelly led his travel ready horse out of the barn, Maria came from the hacienda with a sack heavy with food and Teresa came behind the housekeeper with his jacket as well as Johnny's.

Murdoch placed a hand on his elder sons shoulder, "watch out for your brother and bring him back in one piece."

Scott gave his father the slight smile everyone had come to recognize as determination, "yes sir I will even if I have to pick up the pieces and glue them together."

Teresa gave her 'brother' a kiss on the cheek, "be safe Scott."

He wiped a tear from her cheek as she pulled away, "we'll be home before you know it and if I know my brother… you may have to dust off his old toddler bed."

Murdoch smiled, "Jelly is already on it. God speed, son."

Under another cloud of dust the big brother hurried to catch up to his younger sibling.

As Scott rounded the bend he saw his brother's horse cropping grass by the side of the road.

Johnny was under the tree leaned back, hat over his face, Scott's heart dropped, "Johnny," he shouted as he quickly dismounted, fear that his brother had fallen ill once more.

"'Bout time brother, days a wastin' got some miles ta cover," Johnny pushed the hat back and Scott was met with a mile wide grin.

Giving his own smile back at his younger brother, "Then you lay-about, I would suggest we get our butts back in the saddle and ride… to wherever you are so intent on going."

Johnny stood and moved to his horse, "gonna give a nice person back their life."

Looking at Scott, intense blue eyes locked onto grey-blue ones, "just so ya know what you're getting' inta, I aim not ta come back till it's done."

Laying his arm across Johnny's shoulder, "then brother I will be right beside you the whole way."

Johnny smiled as he mounted the palomino, he had found his light in the darkness in the form of his brother and come hell or high water he would find Emily's light.

Scott mounted up and kicked his horse after his galloping brother, if only he had known growing up in Boston, just what it was he was missing here in the wilds of California.

**LLLLLL**

Emily was just hanging up the last of the laundry, the gentle breeze blowing the flapping sheets back against her.

She stopped as her ears caught the giggle and laugh of a child. Thinking it was one of the Lancer hands children she bent to pick up the big wicker basket, seeing another blanket in the basket she sighed, another one, she knew it had been empty just a second ago.

She jumped when it moved and the giggle came from under the brown material.

A child playing games, putting a hand out to grab the blanket and reveal the toddler the blanket flew back… her hand went to her mouth as the chubby face and laughing blue eyes turned up to her and a voice she never thought she would hear, "momma."

Johnny and Scott Lancer stood beside the edge of the hacienda and smiled. Maria and Teresa, standing in the doorway of the kitchen, hugged each other as tears of joy leaked from their eyes.

Johnny was amazed when Emily's face lit up and the darkness fled, he felt a hand on his arm, "you did good son," his fathers' voice rumbled in his ear.

Scott gently slapped his brothers back, "I am going to get a bath and go to bed for two days."

Johnny nodded, but he was intent on watching Emily and her son under the flapping sheets with the golden glow of sunshine around them.

Now the damaged woman could heal from within, love trumps evil every time.

He thought back on the days before he left to find Emily's boy.

The other two women and two girls kidnapped by the monsters… well, Val was a big help on finding where they all belonged.

Johnny watched as good tears fell from Emily's eyes to drench her sons' head, if everything bad could turn out as good then this would be a perfect world. He felt his father still beside him, then a strong arm fell over his shoulders and he was gripped in a gentle hug, "come on son let's get you a bath, food and bed."

Nodding he allowed himself to be led away, would his father had cried like that if he had been returned still a small child, would the evil in the world never had remained in his memories like Emily's son.

Johnny sighed, well life is what it is… you learn to make do and hope to come out retaining the good and keeping hold of your soul.

He was ok, he was home the evil will still be out there, but he had family at his back and they would always keep a light in the window to light his way and keep the monsters away.

The End

November 2014

solista


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